I hadn’t heard Eleanor laugh like that in two years. Adrian noticed too.
But instead of being relieved, he became worried. “Mom, you barely know this man.”
Eleanor rolled her eyes. “I’m sixty-three, Adrian. I think I can survive dinner with a stranger.”
We laughed. Three days later, nobody was laughing. Somewhere between their dinners and morning walks, Thomas mentioned that he had rented a cottage farther down the coast and planned to stay another month.
Then he invited Eleanor to stay with him. I never thought she would seriously consider it.
But the night before our flight back to Bellmere, Eleanor sat across from us and announced that she had made her decision.
She was staying with Thomas for several more weeks. Adrian stared at her.
“You’ve known him for three days.” “I know.” “And now you’re going to live with him?”
“I’m not moving in with him, Adrian. I’m extending my vacation.” Adrian begged her to reconsider.
Eleanor refused. Eventually, the argument ended with her walking away in tears.
Later that night, Adrian turned to me. “This isn’t like her, Claire.” I knew that.
